Mentally Defective (Temporary Hiatus Thespian work sucks sometimes!)
by HyrulianPegasister
Summary: (A repost using new account) America has been hauled to a mental hospital... That Canada runs! He can't remember any of the days before arriving at the hospital, and Canada is acting very strange. Alfred can't help wonder if he's really gone crazy, or if there is something more to this situation...
1. What's Happening?

_Hey. my name's Kiera! Now, I have posted this story before, with a different account, a long time ago, but I forgot the account and it's been way too long! New chapters are coming up, so I decided to renew the story with a new account. So, I didn't steal this, 'cause it was originally mine. x3 So if you recognize it, this is why. :P_

Chapter One

America lifted his head slowly. He felt groggy and numb everywhere. As his focus swam in and out, he saw the building. It was large, white and very welcoming, but he knew it couldn't be good.

America clenched his fists slightly, and in that action, he began to feel the heavy hands on his shoulders. Alfred lolled his head to see who had a hold of him. On his left was a large black man with an unreadable expression on his hardened face. On the right was a large white man who had a small smile upon his profile. Both were dressed completely in white, but the white man had a small blood stain on his chest in the shape of a hand. Suddenly, a feeling of panic shot through America.

He summoned any strength he could pull out of the foggy haze of his mind and tried to run out of the grasp of the two men. They only jerked him back violently to where America nearly fell to the ground. They continued walking closer to the building.

America wanted to say something but his tongue was heavy, so anything he attempted to say came out slurred. Alfred kicked his feet and screamed as loud as possible. He didn't understand what was going on, but for some reason he knew he was incapable of rational thought. He thrashed and screamed until the black man stopped. The white man soon followed suit and both stared him down deeply. America glanced from face to face repeatedly, trying to determine who is more dangerous. His eyes locked onto that odd smile of the white mans and he punched him right in the lip. The mans grip faltered and America teared away from both of them, or so he thought.

Alfred was whipped right into the black man's chest and he was surprised. But then he remembered the black mans grip on his arm and he grimaced. Before Alfred could recompose himself, he was thrusted onto the shoulder of the black man with the other following close behind. The mans lip was bloody but that smile of his had never faltered. America was confused, but a searing pain in his right hand made him yell out. He looked down at the affliction and his eyes widened. His hand was wrapped up tightly and the gauze was extremely bloody. He could practically see it pulsing as the pain shot through his arm. What ever wound he had in his hand was just made worse when he punched his current pursuer. What had happened?

As the man carried Alfred into the building, the sun disappeared and the only thing America could see was darkness. The air around him was cold and smelled sickly-sweet. He closed his eyes as the smell made his head swim and the world around him spun. He was starting to feel extremely nauseous when suddenly all movement had stopped.

America was sat down on something firm and sturdy, and then he was forced to lie down. He felt something cool come across his wrists, ankles and torso, and then he felt a warm hand lightly touch his forearm. Alfred tried to move his head, but something was restricting him from doing so. And then a voice came from in front of him.

"I never expected to see you here, Alfred..." The hand moved up to touch his face. "You always seem so confident and ready... But I suppose that became your downfall. Am I right, poor soul?"

America couldn't answer. The smell was becoming too much to bare, and he could barely focus on the voice.

"Right. I'm sorry to see you here, actually. But when someone is in need of being healed, I must heed to the call... I'm sure your friends will be happy to see you, but I will have to have a bit of a- talk- with them before I allow that to happen," the voice moved a bit farther away, but it returned with a clinking sound. Like someone was flicking glass. "Now, Alfred, you are going to feel a small pinch and are going to get very sleepy..." Something sharp pierced America's flesh in his wrist and and unpleasant feeling took him over.

"Ah, there we go. Don't worry, we'll see eachother again. Just try and relax, eh?" And then the voice was gone. America's eyes widened as realization flooded his senses. He didn't recognize the voice before because he was so disoriented.

Alfred felt the anesthetic take him over as he slowly became unaware of the outside world. The last thing he was thinking before he was pulled under forced sleep was that the voice belonged to Matty.


	2. Russo-Chinese

Chapter Two

_Uhh..._ America began to stir._ I-I can't see anything..._ Even as he opened his eyes, everything was still dark. Not that it mattered; his head was still immobile. There was one thing missing in the situation, however, and it was that terrible smell. America still couldn't figure out what it could have been, but he was happy that it no longer lingered in the air.

Alfred tried to turn on his side, but something still had him strapped into what ever he was lying on. He attempted to move his feet, but nothing had changed there, either. America sighed out of defeat and laid there, still groggy from the anesthetic.

America listened to a slight buzzing that sounded throughout the unknown area. He didn't understand where it could be coming from, because the only thing he could tie it to was fluorescent lights and it was dark. He couldn't see anything.

Alfred pondered the oddity as he moved his hand up to scratch an itch on his face. _Wait..._ Alfred thought. _My hands are free?_ He moved his arms put to his side to confirm what he hadn't known before. _Am I really that stupid to not notice this?_

Alfred inched his fingers up his face, and as he inched closer to his eyes, he felt something that felt like cloth._ Oh? And what is this?_ He tore the cloth from his face and instantly shielded his eyes again. The light from the fluorescent blinded his unadjusted eyes, and as the became adjusted, he slowly moved his hands from his eyes.

_So, I'm in a room of some sort... And it seems to be small._ Alfred wasn't sure how large the room had been to this point, but it was obvious now as he saw how far the lights stretched.

_I don't remember having a blindfold on before... Maybe it really was dark at first and they had just placed it on me after they knocked me out._ America's free hand wandered to the leather strap that restricted his head from movement. He felt around until he found a buckle. He undid the strap and moved his head side to side, relieving the stress that had been put into his neck.

Ah... That's better. And now I can get a better look around. America looked to his left and felt instant deja vu. Hey... This looks a lot like a doctors office! And it did. There was a counter with jars of tongue compressors and cotton balls, a stethoscope and other medical tools sitting upon it. Above the counter was a series of cabinets that probably held more medical supplies, as well. A few feet in front of him was a metal tray that had syringes and vials placed about it. And inside the trash can beside the tray was bloody gauze that Alfred assumed was from his hand. He now looked at his hand and noted that they must have replaced the soiled gauze.

Alfred let his hands wander to the strap around his waist and he unbuckled that, as well. He sat up and twisted his back until he heard his joints popped. As he twisted it the other way, he noticed a clipboard that sat beside the right side of his bed on a small wooden table.

Curious, he picked it up and analysed the paper clipped to it. Most of it were terms he didn't understand, but assumed to be medicinal prescriptions, but at the bottom was a note jotted down in a neat hand writing that he recognised to be Matty's.

_Notes:_

_I really am surprised to see Alfred here. I would have expected him to be smart enough to escape the tortuous hands of.. Nevermind. That isn't important. This is going to be really hard for me, but I can't go against his wishes... Unless I want to end up like the rest. I know he is going to take a lot of work, but I'm sure we here at the Russo Chinese Mental Hospital will be able to get the desired effect out of him... But I know before we make him insane, we must make him believe he is already insane..._

"... R-Russo Chinese Mental Hospital?" So that's where he was. Did that mean he was insane? But that last bit in the note must have meant he wasn't, right? America barely had the time to piece everything together before he heard footsteps coming in the direction of his room.

America didn't even bother to make himself the way he was. Surely if they had unstrapped his arms, they wanted him to do something. He just sat the clipboard back in its place on the small table and waited for the footsteps to reach his door.

As he expected, they stopped before his room and the door began to open. "Listen, I know what he said, but I just have to drag this one out a bit far- Oh! You're awake. Very good." Canada ended his conversation with another person dressed in white as soon as he noticed America's upright form.

"Yeah... I'm awake... Matty, what's-"

"Hush, Alfred. Tell me, how're you feeling."

America looked at him quizically and answered, "Uhm... I feel fine. Except I'm hungry."

"Aha~ Yes, he feels fine," said Canada to the small female. "America, could you unstrap your feet and turn towards the metal tray for me? I need to give you a dose of ginkgo biloba. It's a vitamin that promotes energy and mental focus, which is always nice to have after being injected with an Anesthetic."

America did as he told, somewhat trustworthy of his brother. He saw what the note said, but he doesn't think he wants to hurt him.

"Very good. I'm glad you trust me, Alfred," Canada smiled. He moved to the tray and picked up a syringe, filling it with a clear liquid from a small vial. "I was afraid you would fight me. I just want to help~"

Canada moved towards America with the syringe and motioned for him to give him his arm. America placed the back of his hand into Canada's and watched as the needle disappeared into his vein.

"There you go. You should be feeling more energized here soon." Canada patted his wrist as he placed a band aid on the area the needle had pierced.

"Yeah... Okay," America moved his hand around and watched the band aid flex and contract. "Thanks. But really, Matty, what's going on? I don't remember much of anything except being carried in here by two brutes."

"Aha~ I'm sorry about that, but you really put up a fight," Canada laughed. "I'm sorry, Alfred, but you're sick... And I'm here to make you feel better." The sweet smile America knew so well lit up Canada's face, and he slowly lost any weariness he had left. At least for now, he would trust him.

"Well, I really feel fine-"

"Oh, silly Alfred. Not physically sick. You're mentally sick. You went a little crazy a couple days ago, and were sent here."

"I... Went crazy? I'm sorry, I don't remember-"

"That's because you took a pretty nasty fall and hit your head pretty hard. I'm surprised all that did was make you forget the days before yesterday. It really could have hurt you badly, Alfred, and I'm glad the only injury you really have is your hand!" Canada laughed as he held the bandaged hand in his own.

"Hey, yeah! What did happen to my hand?"

"Oh, that's not important, Alfred. I would really like to give you a tour of the building. This is your personal doctor's office. I would like to show you the cafeteria, since you are hungry. And then you can go to your room and rest. Would you like that?"

America thought it was odd how confident Canada seemed, but was equally glad that he finally found that side of himself. He smiled. "Of course, Matty. If I'm gunna have to stay here, I should know where I'm staying, right?"

"Exactly. Come on~" Canada took America's uninjured hand and made him stand up. "Melissa, lead the way out the door~" The woman who Canada had come here with left and Canada looked up at America.

"Let's go eat, eh? You like pancakes, right?" They left the room as America nodded his head in reply.


	3. Garden Bird

_Like it so far? Crazy, I know. :P I'm crazy, too! ^-^_

Chapter Three

"This, first of all, is the doctors corridor where all the doctors offices are housed," Canada spoke to America as they walked down the corridor. "There are about fifty rooms here in the corridor."

America watched as door after door passed by him and pictured for each of them to have the same scenery within them. A doctor's office is a doctor's office. "I see..." Ahead of him, he could see a break in the hallway, and there seemed to be a lot of sunlight. Alfred's mouth dropped open when he stepped out of the hallway into a beautiful glass dome.

"...Whoa." Canada looked at his surprise and laughed.

"What's wrong, Alfred?"

"Th-this place is HUGE! And beautiful!" And it really was beautiful. There were flowers and garden plants growing all around him and a light brown cobblestone walk path stretched out in front of him and curved with the plants.

"Haha~ I know. And I take care of everything all by myself. Every plant here belongs to me." Canada smiled. "No one is allowed to mess with them. But~" he paused.

"But...?"

"But there is a place where the patients can sit so they can get some sun. Come on, I'll show you!" Canada tugged America along the path and they curved once left and one more time right. Then they came upon a large opening. America gasped.

It was a meadow, a perfect circular meadow. Flowers of every color littered the grass and a small, reflective pond surrounded by decorative stones was on the far right. A single dove landed on the bamboo plants that grew beside the pond and it flapped its wings, as if to say hello to Alfred.

"Whoa... Matty. This place is amazing!"

"Do you like it? Really?" Canada asked shyly. "I wanted to do something for my patients, considering most of this beautiful place is for me," he laughed. "Everyone seems to like it here."

"Of course I like it. It's amazing! It would be nice to come out of the gloom of insanity to some sort of brightness..." America commented. He wouldn't mind coming here every morning.

"It's good you like it. You'll be staying here a while, so maybe it will fancy you to visit this place often."

America wasn't really paying attention to Canada. He was watching the dove clean it's feathers. It looked at him and cocked its head a bit, and then went back to cleaning itself. He looked to Canada.

"Hey, Matty?"

"Yes, Alfred? What is it?"

"That bird over there... Does it have a name?"

Canada looked around. "Bird...? What bird? I don't see one."

"Right over there, on the bamb- What the hell? Where did it go?" America had pointed in the direction where the curious bird had been, but now it was gone. "Huh. Musta flew away..." He looked around the dome, hoping to see it fly by.

Canada stared at America strangely, and then shook his head. "America, there are no birds in this dome. I don't allow for it, because I don't want them to eat my plants."

America turned to Canada, surprised. "Wait. Are you calling me crazy or something?" He thought this was stupid. It was only a bird, but still, it was strange for Matty to say he doesn't allow birds in the dome...

"Well, Alfred. You are in a mental hospital, after all. I'm not calling you crazy, exactly. It's okay, I accept your mental deficiencies." he smiled.

Alfred glared at him, but decided it wasn't worth the fight. His stomach growled, and he grabbed it. "Hey, Matty? Think we could move on to the cafeteria? I'm starving."

Canada looked at his watch and smiled. "Yes. It's the perfect time to show you the cafeteria. Lunch has just ended and everyone should be off doing their activities..."

"How is that perfect timing? We missed lunch!"

"Oh, Alfred. It's perfect for me, considering I don't want you to meet any of the other patients yet."

America just nodded. He wasn't sure why he wouldn't want for him to meet anyone yet, but he supposed that would be best. He wasn't sure what he should expect from people in an insane asylum.

"C'mon," Canada put a hand on Alfred's shoulder and began to pull him in the direction of the exit. "Let's go eat."

"So, this is the cafeteria, then?" Alfred and Matty were now sitting in the cafeteria at on of the circular, white cloth tables. Okay, so the cloth wasn't completely white. It seemed like people were allowed to write and draw on the cloth, given there was a large tub of art supplies underneath a window.

"Mhm. Indeed it is. What does it remind you of, eh?"

Alfred looked around. All the walls were painted to mimic a sort of playground, complete with painted playing equipment and paint children running around, enjoying their creative world. "Well, it reminds me of a pre-school in a way..."

"Exactly! I wanted my patients to feel young and happy, so I decided to do something that would facilitate the memories of their childhood. They are also allowed to draw on the table clothes. In't that fun?"

"Yeah, it's wonderful," Alfred didn't know about this place making him feel young and happy. It kind of made him feel like he was helpless, much like a small child is. "It's great you think of your patients."

A large woman approached them with two plates, each stacked high with golden-brown pancakes. Alfred's mouth began to water at the sight of the filling food.

The woman sat the plates down and looked at Alfred. She smiled. "Here you go, dear. Freshly cooked pancakes all for you!" She patted his head and Alfred scowled. "I'll be right back with your maple syrup, okay, sweety?"

Canada noticed the scowl on America's face, so he turned to the lady. "Yes, Mildred. That would be great." The woman gave one last sweet smile and went back through the metal swinging doors.

Canada turned his gaze on America. "Be nice to the staff of the hospital, okay? They're here to help, too."

"But she talked to me like I was a child! I am not a child... I'm America!" He crossed his arms and looked off to the side in frustration.

"Aha~ Well, you sure are acting like a child right now, don'tcha think?" Canada laughed.

"Shut up! I am not acting like a-" Alfred stopped himself. He really was sounding like a child right now. It shouldn't be new, because he often acted like he was a self-obsessed child, but he wasn't the type to admit that.

"See? I beg for you to calm down. Mildred is returning with the syrup."

The large woman known as Mildred ame up to them with a bottle of syrup and she sat it in front of Alfred. "There you go. Something to put on your pancakes that is as sweet as you~" She pinched one of his cheeks. "You are just too cute!" She smiled at him one more time and left them once again.

"There that's better. Just let them be nice to you. It won't cause you any harm~"

"Yeah yeah..." America muttered in reply. He was pouring a ridiculous amount of syrup on his pancake stack and he took a large bite.

"So... If I'm insane, what exactly is wrong with me?" he asked with a mouth full of moist breakfast. There must be some sort of term to describe his 'illness'.

"Well, we're not allowed to reveal that to the patient. We're here to make sure they're healthy and to try and help them overcome their illness."

America looked at him, confused. "But wouldn't it help them get better if they knew what they were fighting?"

Canada laughed. "Oh, no. I think it's best for everything to be left to the experts. Your job is to have fun, relax, and get along with everyone else." He smiled sweetly.

America wasn't so sure about everything he was hearing. Then again, he didn't know much about psychology either. He thought he should scope this place out a little more, and then decide if it was legit or not.

"Okay... You're the doctor, I guess." America shoveled another large bite into his mouth, and already, a third of his pancakes were gone. Canada just picked at his food. He kept glancing up at Alfred with a strange look of analysis. America decided to put that in the back of his mind, since he already promised himself he would wait before he jumped to conclusions.

"Alfred, are you ready to see your room, yet? I have some things that need to be tended to..."

Alfred shoved the last bite in his mouth and swallowed. "Yup. I'm all set," He got up. "Lead the way, brother/doctor of mine!"

Canada laughed. "Okay. Follow me, Alfred."


	4. Dude, What The Hell?

Chapter Four

America turned his head, taking in the room. "Whoa, Mattie... When did you do this?" His room was decorated, to his taste. There were posters of American bands, an American flag area rug with matching bedspread, and there was even a Playstation 3 complete with a 32" flat screen and a stack of the best military games.

Canada clasped his hands in front of him and smiled, taking everything in like Alfred. "Do you like it? Being your brother and all, I made sure all of your favourite things were here!" He looked up at America with fondness.

"Yeah, Mattie, it's great, but..."

"Oh, is something wrong?" Canada panicked. "If there's anything that's missing that you would enjoy, I could definitely-"

"Whoa, whoa, broseph. Calm down," America held out his hand to stop Matthew. "Everything is fine. I was just gonna say that it's a lot cleaner than my place. And a lot smaller."

"..." Mattie paused to breathe. "Oh, so everything is to your liking?" He began to wring his hands. America looked at his face and saw something there that usually is, but hasn't been since he first seen him today: anxiety. Alfred began to wonder why he didn't really think of his strange, optimistic behaviour until now.

"Mattie, is something wrong? You've been acting... Crazy." America stopped, and then burst out laughing. "I don't mean_ crazy_ crazy, you know, like mental hospital crazy, and we are in one..." He looked up through tears and stopped again, seeing the look of confusion on Canada's face. America straightened. "Heh hem.. Nevermind."

Canada searched Alfred's face carefully. "Yes... Well, I've got to... go. Take care of things. Like I said earlier." He moved toward the open door and fiddled with the knob. "I just want you to get acquainted for now and relax." Mattie smiled sweetly at America. "Everything's going to be fine, Alfie. Just fine..." The door shut behind him.

America stood there for a few seconds, counting to ten. When he reached ten, he walked to the door and jiggled the knob. Locked. America put his hands out and looked at them._ What am I supposed to do with myself now?_ He stepped away from the door and tried to remember what Canada had said._ "...get acquainted for now and relax."_

_Well_, he thought,_ guess that's what I'm gonna do_. Looking at his bed with longing, he took two quick strides and fell face-down onto it with his arms stretched out. "God, I'm so tired..." he said into the Patriotic pillow. "But everything is so strange..."

The entire time America was there, even after Mattie showed up, something's been off. Of course, the whole him being in a mental institution thing makes it pretty obvious. He found himself wondering why he was in a crazy house, anyway. He didn't think he was crazy. _No, I know I'm not crazy..._ And then there was that clipboard. It had said something about making him think he was crazy, but if he was in the hospital, wouldn't that mean...

Alfred shook his head. He wasn't used to this much thinking, and he was getting a headache. He sat up and looked at his leg, which happened to be twitching._ Huh_, America thought, _I guess I'm really not tired, after all... What was that stuff he gave me? Ginger blow? Whatever it was, he said it would give me energy..._

He jumped out of bed and started pacing the room, becoming bored out of his mind. There was the Playstation, but he had beat all those games at least a thousand times. It didn't seem like much fun, now. America started to wish he could remember more before today.

America stopped in the middle of the room, clapping a hand over his mouth in surprise. The dove from the garden earlier sat perched on the TV, it's head cocked to the side as it stared at America.

America dropped his hand. "Okay, how in the Hell did you get in this room?" he asked, pointing at the bird. It definitely wasn't in here earlier.

The bird opened it's beak. "I was under your bed the entire time, you stupid American!"

Alfred's jaw dropped to the floor. "Okay, that did not just happen!"

The bird raised one of its wings and began to clean it, completely ignoring America. Alfred stood there for a moment, just staring at the bird. _Did- did that dove just talk?!_ He shook his head and laughed. No, it didn't, stupid. You're just a little stir crazy...

The bird glanced up from his wing and looked at America lazily. "What are you laughing at? This can't be new to you."

America frantically moved his arms in front of him at an angle. He began to breathe heavily. "Wh-what are you, dude?!"

"Uh, obviously, I'm a dove. You know, a bird? You must have really busted your head, man."

"I know that!" America yelled with frustration. "I mean, what are you really? Are you, like, my imagination fucking with me?" His eyes widened. "Oh shit! I am crazy!" America raked his fingers over his face shook his head. "I'm crazy?"

The bird looked at him with sympathy. He flapped his wings and flew over to America, hovering in front of him. "No, man, I don't think you're crazy... I'm sorry I was a douche back there." The bird landed on America's shoulder and held out a wing. "'Sup, man. My name is..." The bird paused, dropping its wing. "Shit! I don't have a name!"

"You don't have a name? Ah ha!" America laughed. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard!"

The bird fumed. "Shut up, man!" It crossed its wings. "I don't know why, but I think you're supposed to name me."

America looked at him in confusion. "Uh, why?"

The bird threw up its wings. "I don't know, man! All I know is that I was suddenly in some weird garden, and I saw you staring at me." The bird facewinged. "I don't remember anything before that. I also know that we're supposed to be together for some reason. And don't ask me why, 'cause I don't know that, either!" The bird added in exasperation when America opened his mouth to speak.

America shut his mouth for a moment, and thought for a second._ So, this bird is supposed to be here? Is this a sick joke?_ He rubbed his chin._ Well, as weird as it is, I guess this bird is here to stay. So, maybe I _should_ name it._

"Are you a dude or chick?" America asked the bird.

The birds mouth slacked open in offence. "I'm a boy! What the hell, man?"

America held out his hands in defense. "Sorry, bro. Jeez! It's just your voice is a little... High."

"Uh, yeah, I am a freakin' bird, you dumb bastard."

"Okay, okay! Don't, like, poop on my shoulder or anything." A dude bird. Okay. So, what should I name him? America looked at the bird. Pure white feathers, small black eyes... A beautiful bird, really. I don't want it to be obvious. I'll give it a cool, kickass name to make him sound completely kickass.

"Alright, dude bird. Your name is Blaise."

"Blaise?" asked the bird. "Doesn't make sense but... Hell's yeah! I like it. Makes me sound... Like I'm the shit!"

America laughed, and he was becoming very fond of his new bird friend. "Okay, Blaise." He held out a hand to Blaise. "Welcome to my allegiance."

Blaise shook America's hand with his wing. "And welcome to my flock, man."


	5. Unexpected Visitor

_Hey, all! How are you guys, eh? Oh, if you're wondering about the whole naming the dove "Blaise" thing, it's sort of a personal thing. :P No pressure, but I would enjoy some feedback from the readers. c: That's YOU! I love you guys. :D Let your voice be heard! Totally prise me, or completely put me down, I appreciate any sort of review. :) You can even just say hi if you want xP And if you are a fellow Muse or Panic! At The Disco fan, DEFINITELY tell me that! :D Luv ya! 3 (and sorry if a few 'a's are missing. My keyboard doesn't like that letter -_-)_

Chapter Five

About an hour has passed, and America and Blaise were getting to know each other. So far, America has found out that Blaise really didn't remember anything before the experience in the garden, and that he already knew everything about America... Which was freaking him out.

"Dude!" exclaimed America. "How did you know about that? It's freaking personal!"

"Alfred, everyone knows you're afraid of ghosts..." Blaise shrugged. "You make it very obvious, as I can tell."

America's jaw dropped open. "How did you know that?!"

Blaise sighed. "Do we really have to go over this again? Seriously, man, I'm starting to think you belong here."

America banged his head against the wall. "No, I know that when you saw me, you just recognized me."

Blaise shook his head. "No, when I saw you, I knew you. There's a difference."

"But what does that mean, dude? Seriously, just because I have the Central Intelligence Agency doesn't mean I'm centrally intelligent."

Blaise looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, completely sick of explaining it to an attention deficit country. "It means that I know everything about you. America. Alfred F. Jones. Afraid of ghosts. Brother of Britain and Canada.. A complete narc." America opened his mouth to protest, but Blaise continued on. "Friend of Japan. Apparently "the Hero"." He looked America up and down. "And needs to cut back on the fast food."

"Hey!" America went to grab Blaise out of the air, but he only flew higher. "Take that back!"

Blaise laughed, and lowered himself onto the bed. "Man, you know that I JK. I just-" Blaise stopped. A noise went through the room. America looked at the door. It's being unlocked.

"Uh, Blaise," America whispered. "I think you should hide." He looked at the bed, and jumped back, moving his head all round. "Where'd you go?!"

A little white wing waved from underneath the bed, followed by a, "Under here, idiot!" America let out his breath. He hadn't even realized he was holding it. He doesn't want Blaise to leave him alone.

The door began to crack open slowly, and America's heart began to pound in his chest. Shit! What if it's one of those muscle heads that drug me here in the first place?!, he thought frantically. Then even worse thought found it's way into his brain. What if they want to experiment on me?!

The door opened all the way, and America's eyes almost popped out of his head. "A-Arthur?!"

Britain stood in the doorway, a blank look on his face. Suddenly, his eyes began to fill with tears, and he threw himself into America. "Alfred! Oh, Alfred! They got you!" He sobbed into his shoulder, and America rubbed his back awkwardly. "I thought... Thought that if-" He choked on his tears. "I thought that as long you were still out there, we'd have a chance!"

America pulled back a bit and looked at Britain. "Arthur, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Britain wiped his eyes and sniffed one more time, trying to pull himself together. "I-I don't know why I'm here... All I remember is sitting in my armchair, reading a book, when I heard glass shattering." He took a shaky breath. "And then I woke up in a doctors office with _him_ standing over me..."

Britain had sneered the word "him", and America gave him a look. "I guess by 'him', you mean Mattie."

Britain slapped a hand over America's mouth. "Shh!" he hissed. "Don't ever call him by his name!"

America slapped Britain's hand away, trying hard to control his frustration. "Why the hell not, dude? I mean, that's his name." He glared at Britain. "And my brother."

England gave a crazed laughed, but it stopped as abruptly as it had started. "As far as you're concerned, Alfred, I'm your only brother in this building." He give a quick, paranoid glance round. "Don't listen to him. He's trying to mislead you. He wants something from us, but I don't know what." He grabbed America's face gently in his shaking hands. "Help us, Alfred." Suddenly, Britain pulled America's face to his and placed a hard kiss on his mouth.

America's eyes grew wide and he pulled away abruptly. "Ack!" He frantically wiped his hand over his mouth, trying to remove the sensation of the kiss from his skin. He turned to Britain and threw his hands in the air. "What. The. Actual. FUCK?!" screamed America. "Why did you _do_ that?!" He raked his fingers over his tongue. _I swear his tongue was in my mouth._

Britain was looking at the ground, and he chuckled darkly. "Ever since... I've dreamed... And now... You're here."

"Arthur...? You're not making any sense..." America was a little freaked out. "Ever since when? Dreamed of what? I'm worried about you, bro."

Britain looked up, insanity shining in his eyes. America took a step back, but Britain only took one forward. "You're gonna save us! It's time to become the hero again, Alfred," he whispered. "And now everyone else will know you belong to me!"

Britain began to back out of the room as he laughed, and America held out a hand. "Wait! What do you mean?" he asked. "Who's 'us'? Save you from what?" But the door had slammed shut, and he heard it lock again.

America leaned against the wall and allowed his body to slide to the floor. He drew his knees up and hugged them to his chest. _I should have known_, he thought. _Something is wrong. With this place, And with Mattie..._

America heard the flutter of wings and suddenly remembered._ Oh, yeah. Blaise is here... Blaise..._ he thought. _I wonder if he understands any of this._

Blaise perched himself on America's knees. There was look of concern on his tiny bird face, which made America feel embarrassed. He didn't like to be pitied. "Alfred... I really don't know what to say." Blaise said gently. "I'm sorry..."

America met his gaze for one moment, and then looked away. "There's nothing to be sorry for..."

Blaise crossed his wings. "Okay, don't give me any of that." All sympathy had left his voice, which made America perk up a little. But he didn't show it. "I know everything about you. Which means that I know that, deep down, you care for Arthur. Seeing him act like that, like he's totally insane, must have hurt."

"Okay, yes, it hurt. A fucking lot." He sat up straighter. "But it gave me a wake up call. Now I know something is definitely wrong. Sure, Arthur's a whack job, but he was _never_ like that." He looked Blaise in the face. "Someone did that to him."

"You really think so?"

America nodded. "And if I don't do something soon, I might end up like that too..."

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

**Last chapter as of October 12th. Should be able to post couple more tomorrow, so keep an eye out! Thank ya for reading, brosephs! ;D And don't forget to review! It would be much appreciated. c:**


	6. The Dream and a Couple Burns

**Chapter Six**

_The room swayed in and out of focus. America was on his knees, hands placed on the ground to keep him balanced, but they were shaking. Just like the rest of him. Without opening his eyes, he realized it wasn't him who was shaking, but he was being shaken by someone. He began to heave, needing to be sick, but nothing came up. As it continued, the person shaking him stopped and shouted. It was Francis. And then he was screaming._

_"Ne le laissez pas vous le donner!" America's head swayed when he heard him speak. He didn't know what he was saying. "Restez à l'écart de la médecine orange, l'Amérique!"_

_Francis faded away. America stopped heaving and took a deep breath. His head began to clear. Slowly, America stood up, and when he stood, he felt wind gently tousle his hair. His glasses were cracked, and the image before him was kaleidoscoped into nonsense. Grimacing, he took them off and tossed it over the building ledge. He could see better without them, anyway._

_With strangely perfect vision, he gazed at the scene before him. Fire licked up the sides of buildings, civilians ran frantically. They could not hide. A flash of steel caught America's eyes, and he looked to the left. Kiku had drawn his katana, and he side swiped a civilian off his feet. As the small man fell, Kiku's grin widened and became even wider when he watched the blood pour from his victim. America smiled, too, oddly proud of Kiku and his recent murder._

_A large hand clasped America's shoulder, but he did not flinch. It was his benefactor. The person who gave him this power. The wind changed direction, and an off-white cloth tickled America's face as he and his benefactor smiled down at chaos..._

America jolted upright. His blanket slid off him halfway when he reached his hand up to rub his head. He pulled his hand away and looked at it. A few strands of hair were caught between his fingers, and he frowned at the sight.

Bits of his dream began to slither into his consciousness. He remembered Francis screaming something at him in his frog language. Then he recalled the fire and the flash of steel. And lastly, there was that soft off-white cloth that brushed his skin... America shivered._ It was just a bad dream_, he thought._ I get those when I sleep somewhere unfamiliar. When did I go to sleep, anyway?_

Stretching out his arms out, he yawned until his jaw popped. America scratched his chin and made a note of how scruffy his chin felt. He'd have to shave later. He flipped around and placed his feet on the floor, and he felt a strange burning sensation on his upper lip. Touching it gently, he felt that part of the skin there felt raised and was sore. Curious to know what it is, he began to look for a mirror.

After searching every drawer in his nightstand and every crevice of the room, he sighed in defeat. He was surprised that Canada hadn't provided him with a mirror, considering how vain he was. He glanced over in the direction of the TV and noticed the stack of video games beside the Playstation. Maybe he could use those as a mirror.

He made his way to the the system and picked up the Call of Duty game from the top. America pulled open the case and popped the game out. He held the reflective side up to his face to where he could see his lips and his eyes widened. Two letters stretched across his upper lip in raised cursive: "A.K." Arthur Kirkland._ How did he do that?_ America thought. _He kissed me, but... Seriously, fuck the what?_

He tossed the game on the floor after returning it to his case, too infuriated to put it in the proper place. "Blaise!" called America. "Blaise, where are you? You need to see this. I'm gonna kill that limey bastard!"

America heard a muffled yawn sound from underneath his pillow, and eventually Blaise pulled himself out from under it. He walked to the corner of the bed and plopped down, rubbing his dove eyes. "Man, I was sleeping great." He dropped his wing and glared at America. "This better be good."

"Well, fly your lazy bird ass over here and take a look for yourself!" America yelled, pointing at his afflicted lip.

Blaise sighed and rolled his eyes, but he was in the air a moment later. He flew in front of America and looked where he was pointing. "Dude, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! It was Iggy who kissed me!"

"Alfred," Blaise started. "That usually doesn't happen when you're kissed by someone."

"I know!" He threw his arms in the air. "He did something to make this happen! And when I find out what it was, I'm gunna-"

"Oh, good! You're awake!"

America flipped to face the door, which was wide open. Mattie stood in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him and a kindred smile was plastered on his face. "Uh. H-how long were you-?"

"Alfred, you've got to come with me. I have to give you your nightly injections, and then it's dinner time." His eyes beamed. "And you'll get to meet the other residencies!"

When America didn't move, Canada went to him and gently grabbed him by his wrist. "Come on, now. Don't be afraid. I've given you an injection befo-" He paused and stared at America's face. "What's that?"

America touched his lip with a finger. "I don't know, Ma-" America stopped. Britain had said not to call him by his name. He tried again. "I don't know. I woke up and it was there."

Canada merely nodded, but America could see fire blistering behind his eyes. "I see..." The fire was gone. "I'll see what I can do about that burn. Come on!" He pulled America to the door, and then they were walking down the corridor of rooms. "The sooner we fix you up, the sooner you get to eat!" As if hearing those words, America's stomach grumbled, and he placed his free, bandaged hand on it. Canada laughed. "I'll have Mildred cook up some hamburgers for you," winked the doctor.

Canada had his back toward America as he filled a metal syringe. He couldn't see the vial that held the liquid, and when Canada turned around, he couldn't see it then, either. It was in a metal syringe, after all.

"Hey, why is that in a metal syringe?" America questioned. He was a bit wary of the fact that he wouldn't let him see the medicine.

Canada casually shot a bit of liquid from the syringe and flicked the needle. "This medicine counteracts with glass and plastic syringes. It's just a precaution."

"Oh." America felt nervous. He didn't sound like he was lying, but with the scare that Arthur had given him earlier, he didn't feel like he could trust his words.

Canada tied an elastic band around America's bicep and tapped a vein at the bend of his elbow. Then the needle went in. America gasped when a burning sensation flowed through his arm as Canada pressed down the plunger. When the needle slid out, America clasped his hand over where it had been and stared at Canada with wide eyes.

"Oh, gosh!" he exclaimed. "I'm sorry! I forgot that to warn you that it burned on the way in..." He shook his head. "I'm really sorry. But it ebbs away the longer you take it. I promise." He smiled and placed a bandage with colorful dinosaurs on it over the small puncture wound. It hadn't even been bleeding. America didn't smile back. He was now officially suspicious of Canada.

His stomach growled again. "Oh! Right. Yes. Dinner time!" Canada proclaimed. America jumped off the examining table and sauntered through the door behind Canada. A single thought crossed his mind:_ I've got to get out of here._

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

**Yo-seph, broseph!**

**A couple of things that are absolutely kicktits:**

**Nutella**

**Nicotine by Panic! At The Disco**

**and Twilight Sparkle the Alicorn princess.**

**That is all.**

**Oh yes, and please send feedback! PM or review. Pick your poison~ ;)**


	7. Discord

_ Hey, all, got a question: do you want me to put some USxUK yaoi up it this sucker? Yeah, they totally kissed and whatev'z but that was me being all unsure about putting some in there. So, like, tell me whatcha think. And if you do, tell me if it should be soft and cutesy sort of stuff or hardcore and flamin' hot. I LISTEN TO THY PEOPLE!_

Chapter Seven

Canada flung the mahogany double doors open, and America stared warily into the playground/arts and crafts/lunch room. He really hoped that Mildred the cook wouldn't serve him this time. "All right, Mr. Jones, I'm going to go tell Mildred that you would like a hamburger and some fries for dinner!" _Shit._

America looked around at the trays on the tables in the room, careful not to meet any eyes (at least not yet), and noticed that everyone else was having corndogs. "Why do I get something different?" he asked Canada, pointing to one of the trays nearest him. To tell the truth, he liked to get special treatment, but in a place like this, it seemed kind of strange.

Canada beamed up at him. "Why, Alfred, you're our special patient! Our most important patient~"

"Uh, what in the hell is that supposed to mean?" America snapped. He didn't think he was going to like his answer.

Canada never stopped smiling, but his eyes became sad and he looked away. "Well... Let's just say you need a little more medicine than the rest of them..."

America's jaw dropped down. That couldn't be true. He had seen Britain, and he was an absolute wreck! He knew that he was nowhere near as crazy as him. _What is he trying to hide?_

"Now, don't look like that, Alfie," Canada cooed. "You're also my favourite patient." He drew in closer to America and whispered. "But don't tell the others I said that. I'm not supposed to pick favourites." He winked, and then he was moving through the room to the swinging metal doors and disappearing behind them.

America let out a breath, He had felt so tense with Canada standing there beside him, looking so sweet and innocent. Like he always used to... Except America knew that this innocence isn't like the other. It seemed too strained and forced; like a bad act. And Canada makes it known that he's there, which was never the case. But now, America knew when he walked into the room. The air feels cold and a shiver of dread ripples down his spine everytime. It's just his new attitude... The confidence that was never there before. It was suspicious, and America had to find out where it came from.

"Man, are you gonna talk to your friends or what?"

America jumped, startled out of his reverie by the high voice. He turned around and watched Blaise fly closer to him. He whispered, "Looking at these faces, I know for a fact that you know them."

America shook his head. "Blaise, you shouldn't be here! What is everyone else gonna think when they see a talking dove?!" He struggled to keep his voice low. "Uh, I'll tell you what will happen. These crazy people will go berserk and start screeching about it. And I'll be standing in the corner, banging my head against the wall because of how stupid you chose to be!"

Blaise face winged. "Shut up, you pig, and look around. I think you might actually cry."

"Dude, I don't cry," he retorted. But he turned around, deciding it was about time to meet the crazies, anyway. He stared at the occupants at the table nearest to him: The Baltic States. Estonia ate while watching Lithuania finger paint the white table cloth, and Latvia just... Sat there. He stared at his untouched food without moving a muscle. Neither of the other Baltics seemed to notice, or really care about their friends strange behaviour. America was shocked, but he had always thought they would end up somewhere like this, anyway. They did live with Russia, after all. So, his eyes just moved on to the next table.

He slapped a hand over his mouth to keep a sob from escaping. He saw Japan at the next table, slowly tracing a finger over the ledge of it._ K-Kiku is here?_ He had a strange look in his eyes that was unfamiliar to America. Or, at least it was unfamiliar to him on Japan's face. He's seen that look many times before on civilians and a few other countries: hunger. But he couldn't decide what sort of hunger it was. There was lust, greed, power-hungry and bloodthirsty... America blinked when he saw that flash of steel once again.

America decided it was his time to act, to see if he could find out anything more about this place. He slowly approached the table Japan had claimed, still unsure if now was the good time to talk to him. But even if it wasn't, America was still desperate to see him, and to hear his voice. His steps came faster at the thought of that small voice, and soon he was seated in the chair next to Japan. But he never looked up, never even stopped tracing the table ledge. America got a closer look at his eyes, and they seemed so far away. It was like he was in another world, and America had a feeling it was a place he wouldn't want to see.

He laid a hand on Japan's shoulder. "Kiku... Kiku." He shook him gently. "Kiku, it's me, Alfred. Please... Say something." America waited for a moment, concern etching lines into his young face. Nothing. "Please, Kiku... Just- look at me. Or blink. Do something!" Finally, Kiku stopped the movement, and turned his glossy chestnut eyes onto America. Then, suddenly, it was like something clicked within him and his eyes were full of life again.

"A-Alfred-san?" His eyes grew as wide as a fawns, and he threw his arms around the American's neck. "Alfred-san! You're okay!" He nuzzled into America's neck, but pulled back suddenly. "They-they got you?" His expression deflated. "They got you? No. No, this is bad. This is very bad!" He had let go of America and held his face in his hands, moving it from side to side. America just stared at him a moment, surprised that he had come around so quickly._ Just a moment ago, it was like he was a dead man walking, but now he's crying! Why does this have to happen to me_? thought America, half pitying himself for the day he's had. America felt awful suddenly, as he watched his close friend cry for him... Or at least he thought it was for him. But nonetheless, he knew he shouldn't feel sorry for himself and focus on helping the people he cared about. But first, he would have to find out exactly what is going on.

America put his hands over Japan's that held his face, stopping him from shaking his head so fiercely. He provided some resistance, but the longer America held his hands there, the more he calmed down. A moment later, Japan was looking into his eyes again and they were shining with tears. America could feel tears of his own start to well up, but he knew he had to stay strong for his friend, so instead he smiled and gently stroked Japan's jaw line with his thumb. When Japan's expression softened completely, America felt relief and pulled him against his chest. He never wanted to lose sight of the Japanese man again.

"Kiku..." he started. "Kiku. I'm so glad you're... I mean I wish you weren't here, but-" America sighed. "I'm just really, really glad to see you." He felt Kiku nod against his chest, telling him he understood what he meant. America placed his head on Japan's. "It's just that... I saw Iggy and-" America surreptitiously wiped under his eyes. "Something's wrong with him, Kiku..." Japan nodded again, and he looked up at him. "Alfred-san, I understand what you are saying. I have seen Arthur, as well. He-" Japan stopped, and he tilted his head to the side.

"What? What's wrong, Kiku?" said a wide-eyed American. He thought that maybe he was reversing back into that previous state. He couldn't let that happen again.

"You're rips..." He reached up and touched them with his two first fingers. America winced at the sting, but left them there. Japan gently prodded the raised skin on his upper lip with a look of scrutiny. Then, strangely enough, he put those fingers into his own mouth. America blushed, thinking that it was absolutely absurd, but then he noticed the dawning realization that was crossing Japan's face.

Japan took his fingers out of his mouth and stared at them. "Acid."

"Uh, excuse me?"

"Mr. Kirkland. He put acid on your rips... To spell his initials on them." He looked at America for a moment. "Why would you ret him do that?"

"Dude!" He held up his hands in defense. "It wasn't like that! He..." _Oh, shit, I'm gonna have to tell him about this._ He covered his red face with his hands. "The stupid Brit kissed me, alright? It came out of nowhere, I- I wasn't expecting it!" Japan just nodded, but America saw something flash in his eyes. "What? What does it mean? He said it would make everyone know I belonged to him, but..."

"Nothing. It means nothing." America gave him a questioning look at Japan's tone, so he elaborated. "Okay, it does mean something... In this prace, people get ronery, so we pick someone to be our... Companion." He looked away. "And Arthur got to you first."

"First? What do you mean 'got to me first'? And what the Hell?! I'm not anyones anything!" America was fuming at this point, all crossed arms and rage-sweat. He didn't understand the first thing about this looney bin hopped up on steroids.

Japan lowered his voice. "It's bad he got to you first."

"What? Why? Dude, it's just Iggy!"

He shook his head solemnly. "Not anymore... Mr. Kirkland has been here ronger than most of us. He's farther gone." He looked up at America, seeming worried. "You might be in danger."

"Of who? Iggy?!" For the first time since he got to the hospital, America actually laughed. "That Brit couldn't kill an Italian! I can totally handle this."

Japan held a hand up. "Prease, Alfred-san, you must berieve me. Everyone here. They've changed. It only takes a week, give or take. It depends on your willpower..." He swept his arm around the room. "Just rook at everyone. Rook, Alfred-san."

America looked, following Japan's hand as it swept over the room. First, he noticed the Baltic states again. Everything was the same, except Lithuania was painting Estonia's face now, and he gripped the table so tightly his knuckles were turning white. At the next table, Germany was running his hands over Italy's body with a look France might have. Italy sat still as he did, but one fist was rapping a strange beat over and over on the table below it. Knock, knock, stop. Knock, knock, stop. It went on, and America realized that it sounded like a heartbeat. He shivered. At the table in the corner, Switzerland had his finger shaped as a gun and held it to his head. Over and over, he pretended to pull the trigger and say "Bang!" while Liechtenstein rocked back and forth beside him. She sang a strange song in German that sounded like a lullaby...

_"Der Vater hüt't die Schaf._

_Die Mutter schüttelt's Bäumelein,_

_Da fällt herab ein Träumelein._

_Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf!_

_Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf._

_Am Himmel ziehn die Schaf._

_Die Sternlein sind die Lämmerlein,_

_Der Mond, der ist das Schäferlein._

_Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf!_

_Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf._

_So schenk' ich dir ein Schaf._

_Mit einer goldnen Schelle fein,_

_Das soll dein Spielgeselle sein._

_Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf."_

America looked away. Even that there were more tables, more countries in the room, it was all he could handle. He couldn't understand anything and it made him sad. It made him furious to know that he didn't understand what was happening to the world, because that meant he couldn't help. He looked at his hands on his table, a single tear sliding down his face, and he spoke softly to Japan. "You have to help me. You have to help me help them!" The tears started to come faster and he laid his head in his arms, letting reality rack his body with misery. A hand rubbed his back.

"I will, Alfred-san. Not just for them, though. For me, too." America heard Japan's voice waver slightly. "Something's happening to me, as well. I've only been here for three days, but there's this voice..." His sentence trailed off. America felt him lean closer, and when he spoke again, a warm whisper was in his ear. "I remember something, though. It's not a rot, but I think I know what's happening. I just needed someone strong to help me figure out a pran."

America lifted his head. There were tear stains streaking his face. "You really think you know what's happening, Kiku?"

Japan nodded. "I'm positive." His face became serious. "We're going to have to meet tonight."

"But how?" America was sitting straight now. "They lock the doors."

Japan looked around and took something out of his pocket. "Take this." He slipped it into America's hands. He looked to see what it was and saw that it was a scalpel with a thin blade. He looked into Japan's eyes, wondering how this could help. "The blade is thin enough to pick the lock it the doors. I took a few from my doctors office while waiting for the nurse. I was going to use it to..." He shook his head. "But I realized what I could use it for."

America stared at him a moment, then nodded. He slipped the scalpel into the inside pocket of his bombers jacket. Kiku really has good ideas sometimes.

"Oh, good! You're getting acquainted with Kiku!" Japan's back stiffened. America turned around to see Canada approaching with a tray. A hamburger and some fries.

"Sorry it took so long. We thought we were out of hamburger meat!" Canada set the tray in front of him with a smile, but then shot his gaze at Japan. "Come with me, Kiku. You're overdue for your treatment." Kiku looked at America, fear in eyes. America only looked back and nodded, trying to tell him to go. The faster everyone was in bed, the faster they could meet later. Japan seemed to understand, because he nodded back and stood.

Canada grabbed his forearm. "Don't worry, Kiku. It won't take long." He smiled one last time at America, and then started to the doors with Japan in tow.

Once the had gone, thoughts began to ran through America's head. He wondered what it was Canada was going to do to Japan, and then what it was he remembered. He really hoped that it would be enough to figure everything out... He looked down at his dinner, and for the first time in his life, he wasn't hungry.

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

**Longest chapter! 2500+! Ain't that just kicktits? :D Anywhore, sorry it's been, like, two days, but dude, my friend pissed me off and that was the only thing I could think about for two days! But don'tcha worry, 'cause we're closer than ever, now! ;D Friendship is magiccccccc~ (haha!) Thanks for reading, beautiful homo sapiens!**


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